


La Llorona

by commandercrouton



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Blood and Violence, Death, Drowning, Drowning Attempt, F/M, Gen, Ghost Sightings, La Llorona, Minor Violence, Paranormal, Past Character Death, Rey and Ben are researching urban legends, Urban Legends, mention of child death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-10-26 11:10:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20741252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commandercrouton/pseuds/commandercrouton
Summary: “Back in the old days when the west was still wild, and this state was part of Mexico, this small town used to be an even smaller village. And in that small village lived a beautiful woman. Some say her name was Maria, some say her name was Reina – named for a queen –  but the truth of the matter is no one really knows her name. What matters is her beauty, and the curse that came along with it,” Maz begins, settling into her chair comfortably before continuing.“The folklore will tell you she waited until she found someone to match her beauty and help her gain riches. I don’t think that’s true. History is never kind to women. Back then, women were at the mercy of their fathers or husbands. I’m sure her father waited until someone with pockets lined with gold made him an offer he couldn’t refuse and sold her off.”Rey shivers at the particular set of words. She knew all too well what it was like to be sold off to someone. Digging her nails into her palms, she forces herself to focus on the rest of the story.





	La Llorona

Headlights shine through the surrounding darkness, giving the driver a visual on the dark road. There is no moon, but the stars shine bright, cold, and distant. The spotty radio is tuned to a news station, discussing the Wall Street trades of the day.

Withered blue eyes stare ahead, attempting to stay awake until he gets to the next town with a decent hotel. A beautiful woman in a white dress appears suddenly on the road in front of him. He slams on his brakes, tires screeching in the night.

Gripping the steering wheel tightly, he takes deep breaths to steady his beating heart. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he opens the car door and looks for the woman.

“Ma’am, are you there?” he calls out to the desert.

_ “Ay _ _ ú _ _ dame, por favor.  _ _ ¿Has visto a mis hijos?”  _ asks a voice behind him.

He turns around, shocked by how close she is to his form. He is momentarily stunned by her beauty and he wishes he remembered to take off the wedding band that constricts his finger. She looks delicious with her honey skin, and dark brown eyes filling with tears. Her full and rose colored lips keep repeating words in Spanish he doesn’t understand. Her long, wavy, and thick hair seemed black at first, but the headlights catch streaks of brown. 

“ _ Señor, ayúdame _ ,” she begins again, tears streaking down her face. “ _ Mis hijos _ ,” she begs.

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak Spanish,” he answers. “I’m James Snoke. Who are you?” he asks slowly, stepping toward her.

“My name is Lucia,” she answers in a thick accent. “Please help me. Have you seen my children?”

“You’ve lost your children? Is your husband out here looking with you?” he asks, eyes roaming over her body.

“My husband left us,” she spits out, his name sounding like a curse upon her tongue. 

“It’s dangerous for a woman to be all alone at night. You don’t know what monsters are out here in the dark.” He steps closer, trailing his hand up and down her arm. Lucia’s eyes narrow, as she takes in the wedding band on his finger, before covering it up with more tears.

“It’s even more dangerous for lost men. Come with me,” she pleads.

“Where are we going?” he asks, following her into the darkness.

“The river. That’s where I lost them.”

He follows her into the darkness, trailing after her beautiful form. 

The cops find his abandoned car the next day. 

A week later, they fish his body from the river.

\----

The newspaper slams on the table in the small diner where Ben and Rey are eating, a chance to refuel before they are stuck in the car with one another for who knows how long.

He raises his eyebrow, his coffee mug perched between his lips. “What’s this?” he asks, after taking a sip. It burns as it makes its way down his throat, the bitter aftertaste coating his mouth.

“That is our next assignment,” Rey answers, sliding into the booth opposite of him.

“I thought  _ Resistance _ didn’t read printed articles,” he quips, taking a bite of his burnt bacon. He watches in satisfaction as her cute little nose wrinkles in disgust. Ben wasn’t sure when he started thinking of Rey as endearing, but there is something he loves about studying every facial expression she gives him. Her face shares a vast amount of information.

“Very funny. That’s our last spot to investigate before we are finally allowed to fly back home.” Rey lifts the syrup and drowns her fluffy pancakes. Ben is sure the food is more syrup than pancakes by the time she is done, but he learned early in their relationship never to discuss her food habits.

“I regret the moment Poe contacted me to help on this job.”

“He thought you would give the story more credit considering your background in folklore. Don’t worry, I’ll credit you appropriately, and won’t forget to mention what an insufferable arse you are half the time,” she grins at him.

He rolls his eyes, secretly loving the way her accent makes all curse words sound so innocent yet so obscene. The primal part of his brain wants to hear her say those words in an entirely different manner. 

To say they got off to a rough start is an understatement. His organizational skills and her laid-back manner caused the two to butt heads on their summer road trip as they traveled from town to town, getting stories and recording footage for the article Rey was writing:  _ Top 10 Urban Legends You Never Heard _ . _ _

It wasn’t until Ben made a scathing comment in regards to her previous work articles – which came out harsher than Ben intended, but when did Ben not stick his foot in his mouth? – that caused Rey to park the car in the country heat outside of Savannah, walking out and leaving him in the car to scream at the heavens, asking why they cursed her with such a stubborn ass. He decided to take the time to evaluate their interactions. He may have been too strict on their schedule, and he resolved to make more time to appreciate Rey’s random stops to enjoy new places. She apologized for hiding his protein powder underneath her dirty laundry.

It was the start of a new camaraderie for the two, and the readers who watched their weekly video updates ate it up. Poe already begged Ben to do another segment with Rey over the Christmas holidays. He was an accredited professor at an Ivy League school, and here he was, helping a news source akin to Buzzfeed on his summer vacation as a favor to his mother and his adopted brother Poe. 

Although it wasn’t all bad. Helping out his family led him to Rey. Despite the rocky start, all it took was one night over a campfire for everything to change between them. 

He smirks, staring at Rey devouring her food. He supposes there were worse ways to spend summer vacation.

Pushing her plate aside, Rey digs into her blue backpack, pulling out her company camera for their trip. Turning it on, she adjusts its frame to face Ben, making sure to cast him in the best light.

“Do we have to do that now?” he groans.

“Poe says the ladies love your face,” she answers, glancing up at him. “Wait, are you blushing?” she smirks, her voice is laced with glee. “The almighty Dr. Benjamin Solo brought down by one compliment,” she tells the camera.

“Shut up,” he mutters, blushing even harder. 

“Dr. Solo, why don’t you tell me what you thought about our last trip in San Antonio?”

“Ben,” he automatically corrects, forcing himself to look at Rey and not the camera, “and shouldn’t you be in the shot, too?”

“Psh, nobody wants to see me.”

“Why not? You’re very pretty.”

She blinks at him for a second, a blush forming on her cheeks. She is still getting used to being on the receiving end of compliments. “Thanks. Well, if you want to do this, let’s do it in the car. We can hook the camera up to the rig I set up on the dashboard. We just have to sit kind of close.”

“Yeah, sure.” He stands, tosses a few bills on the table, and helps Rey gather up her supplies before they make their way to the rental car they use for their adventure. He sits in the driver’s seat, knowing it is his day to drive, allowing Rey to perfect the camera position while he turns the engine on to let the air conditioner cool down the car. 

“So, Ben,” she corrects the second time around, “what are your thoughts on our case in San Antonio?” 

He turns to respond to her, but she clears her throat and points to the camera, reminding him to talk to the audience, not to her. “It was a ton of horse shit, but Texas was a great state.”

“For those that don’t remember, we researched the urban legend of a bus stalling out on railroad tracks, causing the death of children. The legend goes, if you douse your car in flour, and turn your car off in the middle of the tracks, you can hear the sounds of the ghost children trying to push your car to safety.”

“Yes, and there were no children, no sounds, or imprints of hands pushing against the door of the car.”

“What do you have to say about the news article that confirms the origin story of the urban legend, itself?”

“Tragic indeed, but this is one legend that is told throughout the country with no real basis. So where to next, Rey?”

“Well, we are headed to the small desert town of Jakku, where reports of a weeping woman have been making news since the mid-1800s.”

“A weeping woman?” he asks, his brows furrowing, forgetting to look in the camera and facing Rey instead.

“Yes, otherwise known as  _ La Llorona _ . The locals have their own folktale about her, so let’s save it for when we get there. Now to close out, let’s answer some questions from the fans. Here’s the first one:  _ ‘Rey, what is your favorite part about traveling all over the U.S. for free?’ _ Oh, that’s easy: the food.”

Ben takes her phone from her hand and reads the next question aloud. “Okay so, this one is for both of us.  _ ‘Do you two actually believe in ghosts?’ _ I don’t, she does.”

“I was supposed to answer, too.”

“What does it matter if it was just a one word answer?”

Rey rolls her eyes, snatching her phone back from him, and clears her voice to read the next question. “ _ ‘You two seem to argue all the time, but lots of us viewers think there is something more going on. Are you two in a relationship?’ _ ”

Ben chokes, blushing from his cheeks to his ears. 

“What’s the matter, Ben? Are we dating, or not?” she teases, grinning maniacally at him.

“Our private lives are just that, private. What Rey and I do is no one else’s business, but ours.”

“We’re totally fucking.”

“Rey!”

“What? There is nothing wrong with us admitting you’re my boyfriend. We are both consenting adults. Besides, an audience member didn’t send that in. It was from your mom,” she laughs, passing the phone to him.

He stares in wide-eyed horror at the name underneath the question submitted from the so-called audience member. “She is going to be the death of me. I swear. The minute she sees this video, she is going to be hounding me for grandchildren.” He places his forehead on the steering wheel, already hating how Rey and his mother knew each other from work long before their relationship started. At least he doesn’t have to explain his mother’s tactics to her.

“Don’t worry, babe, we can edit it before we send it to them,” she soothes. She leans over, placing a kiss on his cheek. 

“Your kisses won’t distract me from you saying we are fucking into a camera.” He puts the car in reverse, pulling out of the parking spot.

“You had no problem using it for our bedroom act–”

“Please don’t finish that sentence, or I’ll pull over and take you in the backseat. We have a long drive ahead of us.”

Rey smiles, reaching over the armrest to grip his hand in hers.

\----

Standing in front of the aged library, Ben eyes the discolored wood and chipped paint apprehensively. They had been to questionable locations before; their research was not always in safe areas. But this? This is a death trap. All it would take is one rotten plank of wood for him to fall through the floor. 

There is Rey, bounding up the stairs like she isn’t about to get tetanus just from stepping on the panels.

“Come on, slowpoke,” she calls over her shoulder, her hand reaching the ancient doorknob and pulling it open. The sounds of creaking wood cut through the dry air and she disappears over the threshold. 

He cautiously follows her into the dark and cool room. The smell of old books and papers permeate the air. Wood groans underneath their feet as they quietly make their way to the front desk, glancing around to see if they can spot the elusive librarian they are to meet. 

“Ben Solo!”

The two jump, startled by a loud voice in the eerie quiet.

“Yes, that’s me,” Ben answers. “Shouldn’t we be whispering?” He turns around to view what he can only assume is the librarian.

“Psh, only the ghosts are here. No sense in talking quiet for that reason, eh?” A short Black woman with large glasses that magnifies her brown eyes walks to them, carrying a stack of books with her. “I’m Maz. Kanata. You wanted to check the archives, right?” 

“I’m Rey. It’s nice to meet you.” She sticks out a hand, standing tall.

Maz’s eyes narrow as she takes in Rey, looking at her as if she can see into her soul. “You, you’re a tough one, aren’t you?”

Glancing at Ben with a startled look, Rey directs her sentence at the librarian. “Excuse me?”

“I see your eyes. The belonging you seek is not behind you, it is ahead. Whoever you were waiting for, they’re never coming back.”

Rey takes a step back and stares at the woman defensively.

“And you,” Maz turns her eyes on Ben, “well, I think you know what you need to say. Your belonging is right here,” she finishes with a sly wink, striding past them to the desk. 

Rey looks warily at Maz, standing firm in her spot, not wanting to move closer. He briefly wonders what Maz meant when he spoke to Rey. That sentence drained the color from her face and rendered her speechless. 

“Hey, you okay?”

She jumps at the sound of his voice. “Yeah, I’m fine. She just said some really weird stuff.”

His thumb draws circles on the back of her hand. There is no power on Earth that would allow him to stop, not when she looks so shaken. “Want to talk about it?”

Her hair fans round her face as she shakes her head no. Squeezing his hand back, she disentangles herself from his fingers and follows Maz.

“I know we mentioned an in-person interview, but would you be okay if we recorded the interview?” Ben asks as he followed closely behind Rey.

“Not at all.” Settling into her office chair, Maz leans forward, watching the two fumble with their equipment. 

Swatting Ben’s hand away, Rey handles setting up the recorder and camera, while Ben goes to drag chairs behind her desk for them.

“Alright, if you could state your name, position, and how long you have lived here please?” Rey begins, taking out a notepad as well.

“I’m Maz Kanata, I’ve lived here about, oh twenty some odd years now. I am the city’s librarian. I’m probably one of the few who has lived here the longest,” she trailed off.

“Care to elaborate?”

“People don’t like to stay here. They think it’s cursed.”

“Is it?”

“No, just tainted with a sad past.”

Rey and Ben share a look, waiting for Maz to elaborate, but she continues to sit there, smiling at the two, daring them to ask her to continue.

“Is this about the legend of  _ La Lllorona _ ?” Ben asks. 

Rey has to fight the shiver along her spine. There is something about hearing that name, here in this town, surrounded by its history, that causes her to feel as if she is submerged in water.

“Did you ever hear the original tale?” Maz asks, peering at them over her large rimmed glasses. 

“Didn’t she drown her kids or something, out of spite?” Pulling out a journal, Ben tries to find the few notes he has written while researching this folklore.

“Back in the old days when the west was still wild, and this state was part of Mexico, this small town used to be an even smaller village. And in that small village lived a beautiful woman. Some say her name was Maria, some say her name was Reina – named for a queen – but the truth of the matter is no one really knows her name. What matters is her beauty, and the curse that came along with it,” Maz begins, settling into her chair comfortably before continuing.

“The folklore will tell you she waited until she found someone to match her beauty and help her gain riches. I don’t think that’s true. History is never kind to women. Back then, women were at the mercy of their fathers or husbands. I’m sure her father waited until someone with pockets lined with gold made him an offer he couldn’t refuse and sold her off.”

Rey shivers at the particular set of words. She knew all too well what it was like to be sold off to someone. Digging her nails into her palms, she forces herself to focus on the rest of the story.

“She gave her new husband two beautiful children, and they were happy, for a time. Until he found a younger, more beautiful woman. She was cast aside, and angry for it. She gave up her home, her family, her youth, and her body to this man just for him to leave her? No, that would not do. In her anger, she wore her wedding dress and took her children to the river, just outside of town, and drowned them. In doing so, she took the one thing back she gave him. Despite his terrible tendencies, he was a good father. Or so they say. They hanged her for her crimes. Her soul still wanders the river at night, crying for her lost children. Without them, her soul can never be allowed to enter heaven. They also say she will drown married men whose eyes are easily swayed. Even now, people report the sounds of a woman crying, but none dare go investigate.”

The couple sits frozen, captivated. It takes them a minute to realize she is done speaking. Shaking themselves out of a stupor, they both pretend to ignore the goosebumps that appear on their arms. 

“Do you think she really did that?” Rey whispers, eyes downcast and ashen by the sadness of the story.

“Don’t do that,” Ben interrupts.

“Do what?”

“Humanize her. She was a monster. She killed her children because her husband couldn’t keep it in his pants.”

“A mother wouldn’t do that. I refuse to believe that.”

“Not all mothers are saints, Rey.”

“If you two are quite finished,” Maz interrupts, “I think you both are letting feelings blind you from the story.”

“Well, what do you think? Is she real? Does she still haunt the river?” Ben scowls at Maz, crossing his arms in a sense of defiance.

“She is definitely real. I’ve seen her.”

Scoffing, Ben leans over on his knees, daring her to continue with a look. Rey rolls her eyes at his obvious posturing. He did this whenever he questioned someone who firmly believed in the legend or folktale. 

“You want to know why I didn’t drown? I am no child, and I am no married man with wandering eyes. She is so alone, just crying for her children. So no, I don’t think she murdered her children. Women do terrible things when enraged, but I just think she didn’t want her fool of a husband and his lover to take them away from her. If he took them too, she would have nothing left, and would have to return to her village with only the clothes on her back. I like to believe she was taking them with her; running away before he could get them, and the current was too strong for her young ones. But what do I know? I’m just an old woman, trying to survive living in this blasted desert.”

Staring at her with a look of disbelief, Ben continues his questioning. “Have people gone missing in the river?” 

Maz merely laughs, pushing a stack of folders to them. Handing one folder to Rey, he opens one for himself and glances inside.

_ Mary Johnson, 6, Found in River - 1921 _

_ Body Found - Christopher Reyes Drowned 1921 _

_ Thomas and Jonah Leonard, 12, Twins Drowned in River - 1925 _

Ben’s eyes widen at the stack of reports from the twenties. Glancing at the folder in Rey’s hands, the newspaper clippings match the same theme from his, just from a different decade.

Leaning back in her chair, Maz gazes at his face. “People have been disappearing into that river for a long time, boy. If you don’t believe, I suggest you start.”

\---

Staring out at the setting sun, Rey wraps a blanket around Ben before settling herself next to him on their rental’s trunk. 

“What’s the blanket for? It’s a desert.” Large fingers thread the soft fleece blanket, as he wishes he was smaller so he could wrap himself and Rey in the cloth. 

“For a smart guy, you can be pretty dumb sometimes,” she answers, staring at him in a fond exasperation that does funny things to him. 

Indignant at her statement, he huffs a bit, making an exaggerated show of pouting for her amusement. The light sound of her laughter at his actions pleases him immensely. 

“Drama queen,” she shoves him playfully, continuing, “The desert gets cold at night. That’s when the critters come out too. So watch out for snakes and scorpions.”

“I’m sorry, snakes and what?” he sputters.

“Don’t get soft on me now, Solo. Here I thought I was protected from the bad things that go bump in the night.”

“Scorpions are where I draw the line, Sweetheart.”

“I grew up in a desert,” her soft voice carries on the wind, disappearing into the vast wilderness.

Ben glances at her in surprise. She has never once mentioned what her childhood was like. Based on conversations he had with his mother the few times they discussed work, he knew she had no family to go to over the holidays, instead choosing to spend time with Poe and his boyfriend. Silently staring at her, he slowly grasps her hand, letting her know she isn’t alone in this moment.

“My family left me at some market. They said they would come back, but they didn’t. There was nothing left to do except call the authorities. I grew up in the system. Where I grew up was similar to here.”

“Did you ever get...adopted?” he softly asks, allowing his gentle voice to caress her.

She shakes her head. “The older you get, the less likely it is to happen.”

He watches her as she stares at her feet, stroking her hand softly.

“I don’t want to think of my parents as bad,” she continues, “but why else would they leave me? I know it’s stupid, but…” 

She presses her lips into a thin line.

“But?” he prompts her.

“That’s why I want to believe that woman didn’t murder her children. I don’t want to think of mothers as bad people. They are supposed to protect their children. Not throw them away like garbage.” Anger laces her tone. 

Ben lifts his arm and pulls Rey close to him, pressing a soft kiss into her hair. He patiently waits for her to steady her breathing. They watch silently as stars appear in the dark sky. 

“This is kind of romantic.”

“Nothing like waiting for the ghost of a woman who murdered her children with your girlfriend in the desert.” His chest rumbles with laughter. 

Shoving against his broad chest, Rey sits up. “Do you really think she did it?”

“I don’t even think she’s real.”

Her pink lips narrow out again, letting Ben know she is close to getting angry. “Okay, but if she is real. Do you think she…?”

“There are monsters in the world, Rey. They may not be the kind you grow up hearing about, like vampires and werewolves. They are much worse than that. Humanity is the true monster. I think anyone is capable of anything, even if that means drowning your children out of revenge. Parents aren’t saints. They are human beings and are capable of doing terrible things.”

He knows the moment the words are out of his mouth, he made a mistake. Her body stiffens against him, removing the vulnerability she showed just moments before.

“You mean like leaving a helpless little girl alone.” Aggravation laces her tone as she hops off the trunk.

“No, Rey, that’s not what I meant. If they left you, they were terrible. You deserve more than that.”

“You don’t know them. You never believe in the good in people,” she whispers, tears filling her eyes as she shakes her head – as if trying to make his words vanish. 

“Babe, that’s not what I meant. It’s not my fault I never met your parents. Just like it’s not your fault you don’t know them. Stop holding on. You need to let the past die.”

Giving him one last withering stare, Rey begins to walk in the darkness, her form blending in with the shadows.

“What are you doing? You could get hurt!” he yells after her, hastily jumping off the trunk in an attempt to follow her.

“Don’t you dare follow me, Solo. Unlike you, I know how to survive out here, and I’m not exactly in a forgiving mood if you stumble into a patch of cacti.”

He stares after her, leaning against the trunk as he does his best to stay calm until she returns to him. Every sound and scurry causes him to jump in fear, wondering if this is the moment a rattlesnake will leap up at him, injecting venom into his skin.

Jesus, Rey is right. He is a drama queen.

Kicking a small rock, he hears it roll in the hard sand long after it disappears from view. That’s when he hears another noise in the darkness.

A woman crying.

His thoughts instantly turn to Rey, and he takes a step forward, before stopping. What if it was the ghost? Luring him away from the safety of his vehicle to take him away like the others?

Suppressing a shudder and the feeling of unease in his stomach, Ben continues onward. Ghosts aren’t real. It is just like Maz said. Too many times people let the sounds of a woman crying go without investigation, and he will be damned if he let something happen to the woman he loves.

“Rey?” his booming voice fills the vast expanse. He fumbles for his phone in his pocket and turns on the flashlight. His heart sinks in his stomach as he realizes there is no service out here. Every instinct screams at him to stay, to stay safe and to survive, but he crushes those thoughts deep within him. Rey needs him. 

The light leads him closer to the crying. Underneath the sounds of her sorrow, he hears water rushing and falling over rocks, increasing to what sounds like distant thunder the farther he moves from the car.

The figure of a woman standing ankle deep in the water causes him to freeze. What is she doing here? The air is getting colder, and the water can’t be any better. Sparse vegetation dots the bank, and he does his best to avoid the prick of the coarse plants that have somehow survived in this harsh environment.

“Miss, are you alright?” His voice carries to her, and her sobs grows louder.

Slowly, she turns around to face him. His breath catches in his throat. She truly is a beautiful woman, with skin the color of dark honey. Her long and luscious hair matches his in color. But her eyes – those dark eyes house so much sorrow. His arms raise instinctively, wanting to hold and comfort her.

“Please, help me. I –” she breaks off, her tears starting anew. 

Her accent is thick, and her English is fragmented, only knowing a few choice words. 

“Come out of the river. I can help you. We can go get help,” he tries to persuade her, reaching out his hand to her.

Her white dress sways in the breeze. “I can’t leave. Not without my children. They are gone,” she strangles out, her voice choking on the words. “Please, help me.”

She wades deeper into the river, the cold waters now to her hips. The waves rush against her narrow waist, dampening her white dress, clinging to her skin. Ben is helpless as he watches her figure submerge. 

The sounds of the desert night fade away as he stands on the bank. He is entranced by her mystical figure. She is captivating, a siren, and all he has to do is help her. Help her find her children. It will be so easy. All he has to do is just let the river take him. He takes a step forward, following the beautiful woman’s pleas, staring at her outstretched hands, beckoning. If he can just grab her…

“Ben?” 

He pauses midstep.

The sounds of wailing grows louder, surrounding him, echoing within the walls of his head. He closes his eyes, taking another step forward. Faintly, he can feel the dark swirling water around his calves.

“Ben, where are you? This isn’t funny!”

There is that voice again. There is something about the voice that is important. Why can’t he focus on anything else except the woman crying in front of him?

“Ben!” 

The lilting voice is accented. Unbidden images flash through his mind of hazel eyes that love to roll at sarcastic jokes, pink lips which sear his skin, his hands lost in her curves as they tangle up in bedsheets. 

He blinks slowly, coming out of a haze, taking in his surroundings. The stars blink at him, twinkling in laughter at the fool who follows a strange woman into the river. 

_ The woman. _

Looking up and down the river, the woman he was attempting to assist is gone. No trace of her is left.

“Ben, what the hell are you doing? Get out!” 

Splashes of water splatter across his back as he hears the woman enter the river behind him. Her strong grip is on his arm, forcing him to turn around and face her.

Rey’s worried face meets his. “What were you thinking?” she hisses. “I told you to stay put. You don’t know how dangerous the desert is at night.” She is already pulling his body out of the river. 

“Did you see her?” he asks, still trying to gain one last glimpse of the crying beauty. How will she find her children now?

“See who? No one else is out here, just you and me,” she mutters, already dragging him to the car. 

Studying the desolate surroundings, he realizes he has no idea where he is. Gently prying his arm from her hold, he slips his hand in hers, thankful one of them has a sense of direction.

“There was a woman crying. She needed help,” he utters, looking helplessly at her.

Rey’s steps falter. 

“What did you see?” Her voice is barely above a whisper, as still as the arid air.

“I just told you.” Annoyance laces his voice. “A woman crying for her children. She lost them around the river.”

“Ben, you saw her. You saw  _ La Llorona _ .” Paling at the implications of what Ben has just told her, she implores him with a look to voice his contradiction.

“But she isn’t real.” His voice is weak. 

“Then where is the woman you heard crying? Why wasn’t she in the river? There was no one with you. You were by yourself, walking in deeper into a rushing river. Why would you do that, Ben?” The longer she speaks, the higher her voice rises, balancing on the edge of anger and fear. 

“I don’t know, I can’t explain it.”

“So why did you do it? I thought you would know better. I could have lost you,” she finishes, doing her best to fight the break in her voice.

Shuffling around to face her, he tries to search within to explain why he followed a strange woman to the river, but the truth is, there is no explanation. The minute he found her, his soul was tied to the sounds of her crying and tears on her face. What drew him to her in the first place could be explained, however.

He looks down at her softly, noticing the way she chews her bottom lip – something she does whenever she is anxious. 

“I thought it was you.” He places his arms around her waist. “I thought you were upset and needed me.”

She stares back for a moment, eyes softening as she takes in his earnest demeanor. Wrapping her arms around him, she nuzzles into his chest. “I was so worried about you.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I promise, I’ll never go trailing in the dark in the desert ever again.”

A small smile starts to grow at his futile attempt of a joke. “You better not. I couldn’t imagine my life without you.”

A different kind of heat unfurls within his chest as he takes in the way her arms tighten around him, the way she breathes in his scent as if memorizing it. 

“I couldn’t imagine my life without you either,” he replies honestly. Taking a deep breath, he voices the feeling that has been settling within him each day. “I love you.”

She immediately pulls back, trying to stare at his face in the dark. “Ben I –”

“I know we have only been together this summer, and it may be too soon, but this feels right. Doesn’t it?”

“Ben,” she places a hand on his lips, stilling him. “I love you too.”

“You do?”    
  


“Yes, you idiot. So never scare me like that again. I can’t be without you.”

“You’re not alone,” he vows.

“Neither are you.” 

Rey rises on her toes, and presses a hard kiss against his lips, conveying all the feelings they hold for one another into one action, one moment, that will stay with them forever. As he attempts to deepen the kiss, she stops and gently pulls away. She silences any objection with another swift peck, a promise of what will come that night.

Sighing in relief at being together once again, she gently tugs his hand forward, taking him with her as they make their way across the desert.

\---

_ The Resistance’s Top _ _ 10 Urban Legends You Never Heard  _

_ By Rey Niima and Dr. Benjamin Solo _

  1. _ The Legend of La Llorona_

_ In the middle of the wide desert near the Mexican border stands a small town named Jakku. There is a legend that speaks of a woman in white, crying for her lost children. Known to the locals as  _ La Llorona _ , or The Weeping Woman, she is a figure shrouded in mystery. No records have been found linking a real person to this woman, but as we all know, history is never kind to women.  _

_ Despite the lack of factual knowledge about this woman, ask any local and they will tell you the same thing. A beautiful woman married a powerful man, but their marriage didn’t last. Her husband found another love, someone youthful with her beauty intact. In her anger, she destroyed the two greatest gifts they gave one another – their children. _

_ Her spirit still haunts the river, luring unknowing victims to their watery graves. She uses her beauty, humanity’s empathy, and even humanity’s lust to gather souls in an effort to beg Heaven’s gates to allow her soul entrance. Time and time again, though, they refuse, sending her away with one order: Return with your children’s souls, and you can rest. _

_ Cast aside, she is cursed to roam the river eternally. _

_ Many will believe this is just a legend, another folktale to keep children in line, or to keep your partner from cheating.  _

_ We know, because we used to believe the same. Until one fateful night, when we met her,  _ La Llorona. 

  
  
  
  



End file.
